


Right Now

by tomanonuniverse



Series: Prompt List #1: Overwatch [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: "Have you lost your damn mind?!", Bodyguard, Escape, Forced Marriage, Prompt Fic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 20:01:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15275145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomanonuniverse/pseuds/tomanonuniverse
Summary: He didn’t say anything when he sat, he didn’t have to. Junkrat sighed heavily next to him, knowing that the other wouldn’t leave until he told him the truth. He looked at his hands and swallowed, then put them down and stared at the ground instead. Roadhog turned his head and watched the scene unfold, chest feeling particularly tight at the bizarre un-Junkrat-like behavior.“The Queen wants me to marry ‘er.”





	Right Now

**Author's Note:**

> Ehhhh this is kinda tacky and poorly written but I just kinda did it on a whim, so. Prompt is: "Have you lost your damn mind?!" Someday I might come back to this and add a bonus scene in the end notes, but right now I am. Not interested in adding anything, heh. As usual, not proofread. Hope you enjoy!

Since the moment Junkrat stepped back into their little “shop,” he’d been nothing but dead quiet, and that’s how Roadhog knew something was wrong.

It wasn’t like Junkrat wasn’t capable of being quiet, quite the opposite in fact. Whenever he would concentrate on his current creation, he’d go silent enough to be nonexistent, only sounds being occasional curses or excited murmuring. That’s why it was a bad thing that he was quiet. He was concentrating. Junkrat doesn’t concentrate outside of his workshop.

“What is it.” Roadhog was not a man of many words, nor was he a man that held any form of patience. When he spoke, he went straight to the point. The blond jumped at the sudden voice, turning his head to the other briefly. “Huh? What? Oh. ‘S nothin’ mate, don’ worry ‘bout it,” Junkrat stumbled quickly, looking away from Roadhog.

The older man grunted, dropping the can of gas in his hand and stomping his way over to the younger one, who was now seemingly lost in thought once more. He hadn’t meant to startle him, not really, but apparently taking a seat next to him caused him to jump twelve feet into the air, and not in the funny way caused by sudden imbalance in weights.

He yelped, but didn’t get up and leave. Instead, he looked at Roadhog in confusion, unsure why the other would suddenly sit next to him. They weren’t friends, but they weren’t enemies either. They technically can’t be, really. After all, Roadhog was Junkrat’s personal bodyguard, appointed to him by the Junker Queen herself.

Junkrat was useful to the Queen. He was loud and annoying, yes, but whenever she sent him out of Junkertown’s walls to retrieve something for her, he never failed, never let her down. He even entertained her outside of the missions with his antics around her land. The Queen decided Junkrat was valuable. The rest of the town did not like that, not when they’d all work so hard to earn her favor, only for it to fall for someone like him.

He should have been untouchable, to be favored by the Queen is such, but the Junkers _really_ didn’t like the Rat. And so, the Queen appointed one of the strongest, most indifferent men in Junkertown to protect the Rat with his life. That was Roadhog’s job. He gets paid to be around the little vermin. Their relationship was strictly professional. Even if the Rat looked at him too much when he thought he didn’t notice. Even if he smiled behind his mask too many times because of it.

Thinking was not safe. Especially if they are unwarranted thoughts. They could be a danger outside the walls, or within them, in Junkrat’s case. As his bodyguard, it was Roadhog’s job to ensure Junkrat’s safety. And so, he had to make sure he wasn’t thinking too hard, that he had a clear mind, no worries or troubles, not when he has Roadhog with him.

Very strictly professional.

He didn’t say anything when he sat, he didn’t have to. Junkrat sighed heavily next to him, knowing that the other wouldn’t leave until he told him the truth. He looked at his hands and swallowed, then put them down and stared at the ground instead. Roadhog turned his head and watched the scene unfold, chest feeling particularly tight at the bizarre un-Junkrat-like behavior.

“The Queen wants me to marry ‘er.”

Ah. So it wasn’t just her _favor_ that fell for him.

“I mean, tha’s crazy, right mate? I’d say she wants to marry me but,” he paused, chuckling humorlessly, “that’d make it sound like issa proposal!” He exclaimed, patting Roadhog’s arm erratically. Soon his hysterical laughter died down and he looked at the floor, head in his hands as he looked at the ground with the same disbelief.

“’S not,” he croaked.

Roadhog had frozen the moment the Junker said the first sentence, going completely still as his blood ran ice cold. In the heat of the Australian outback, one would think such a thing was a blessing in disguise. But Roadhog couldn’t be bothered to think of the heat. All he could about was what his charge just informed him of.

The Queen wanted Junkrat. She _wanted_ him, whether he liked it or not. And despite governments not existing, rings still did, and she wanted to force one on his finger. She was claiming him for herself. She was _forcing_ him to submit even more. How much lower can the Junkers get beneath her commands? Better yet, how low could _she_ get?

Roadhog hadn’t realized his hands had formed fists until Junkrat spoke again. “I asked ‘er t’give me ‘till tomorrow t’answer. I didn’ think she would, but I guess she must _really_ like me,” at his own words, he laughed nervously, hands grappling at his hair and pulling every now and then. Roadhog exhaled, letting himself turn his head towards the man in despair.

“This… This wouldn’ be so bad, if I’d liked sheilas,” Junkrat whispered, “but I don’t. I like blokes.” Roadhog felt his eyes widen behind his mask. He was honored that Junkrat trusted him enough to tell him that, even though he already knew because Junkrat can’t keep a secret for shit, but _now?_ Now, when he was completely out of reach? “How do I tell’er tha’? She’d have me damn _head!”_

Roadhog’s eyes snapped upwards to Junkrat’s hair, now being pulled at aggressively. The blond was muttering something beneath his breath as he tugged at his head, something along the lines of _“fuckin’ think, think, think,”_ before they finally clutched the locks there in tight fists and remained while he shook like a leaf.

The older man willed himself to raise his own hands up then rest them on Junkrat’s. The other flinched, but rose his head slowly as Roadhog pulled both of their hands away from his hair gently. He swallowed and looked at the Hog’s mask, fighting back a sting at his eyes that had nothing to do with the radiation. “What do I do, mate?”

The words were muttered so quietly with that cracked voice in such a broken tone and in that moment Roadhog knew he couldn’t let this happen.

“Leave.”

For a moment, Junkrat looked as if he was in _pain,_ brows worrying and jaw dropping. For a moment, he thought the other had just told him to leave him alone, to go away, to go to _her_ , that he wanted nothing to do with him if he was going to be with _her_ , and then his brain caught up to him.

His jaw remained slacked. “What?”

“Leave Junkertown. Before tomorrow,” Roadhog clarified, watching the other’s eyes widen in shock even more. He hadn’t finished the thought before Junkrat was already shaking his head. “Have… Have you lost your _damn mind,_ mate?!  I’d never even make it past the fuckin’ wall!” The blond exclaimed, leaning backwards as he spoke. “And even then, what ‘appens next, huh? I’d die in a hoot without supplies out there.”

Roadhog let out and offended grunt. “I’ll protect you.”

Junkrat’s eyes widened. “Woah, I’m not draggin’ ya inta this, ya big lug! Queen’ll ‘ave your head too if ya help me out, ya know!” He protested, shaking his head even more as he did so. He opened his mouth to give the Hog a detailed list of what deserters of Junkertown get punished with but was oh so rudely interrupted by two giant hands that were still holding his tightening their grip on them.

“I don’t care about that. I’m not loyal to her, Rat,” Roadhog said, “I’m loyal to _you.”_

Junkrat froze, eyes so wide it had to be unnatural. He gave a quick glance down at their hands then back up at the masked Hog’s face. His own face filled with a red hue and he smartly said, “uh.” Seemingly understanding what went through his mind, Roadhog let the other’s hands go and went to pull his own back and put them at his sides.

“Wait!” Junkrat said, grasping onto the hands. “What— What do you mean? Do you mean tha—”

Roadhog shook the other’s hands off of his own, much to both of their dismays. “It means whatever you need it to mean right now,” he grunted vaguely. Junkrat’s nose scrunched and he squinted in confusion. “Fuck’s’at mean?” He inquired, tilting his head. Roadhog snorted behind his mask. The apocalypse truly did a number on people’s communication skills.

“It means we don’t have time right now,” he growled, getting to his feet. The other followed suit and surprisingly straightened his back, proving himself taller than Roadhog initially thought. “For _right now_ , pack. We leave tonight.” Junkrat paused, and for a moment, he looked like he was hesitating. Then he looked at Roadhog’s hands and decided that, yes, he was willing to take this risk.

Roadhog once again found himself smiling behind the safety of his mask. It’s either the other truly was shit at hiding things and being stealthy or Roadhog was just too observant for his own good. He found himself hoping it was the latter. They were going to need the stealth if they hoped to sneak past the wall during the night and manage not to disturb the patrols at that hour.

A voice knocked the man out of his thoughts. “Oi, by the way,” Junkrat said from across the room as he stuffed a duffel bag with what looked like random scrap to anyone that wasn’t the genius at hand, “it’s Jamison.” The man stood up and swung the bag onto his shoulder. He turned around and _beamed_ at Roadhog. “Jamison Fawkes.”

It took a moment for Roadhog to fully comprehend what the other had just told him. Once he realized, he inhaled sharply.

His name.

Junkrat had just told him his name.

He clenched his fists and nodded at him curtly. “Okay,” he said. Jamison’s grin fell slightly, unable to hide his disappointment. “You’re… not gonna t’tell me yours?” He asked, almost hurt, but understanding. He didn’t expect the Hog to suddenly pour all of his trust in him, but Jamison trusted him with his name, and his life. He snickered to himself at the irony of the phrase.

Roadhog shook his head, much to his dismay. “No,” he replied, “not right now.” Jamison flattened his lips. This man had an unhealthy obsession with the words _“right now.”_ He counted at least four times he said it in their conversation.

“I’ll tell you when you’re safe,” Roadhog suddenly said. Jamison rose and eyebrow and pulled his head back. _“Safe?”_ The blond repeated incredulously, “when’s _tha’_ ever been a thing?” He chuckled and shook his head. “Mate, if you don’ wanna tell me, jus’ say tha’ outright!” Jamison laughed sadly at his own words.

The other man, however, did not seem to be sharing the same humor. “I’ll tell you when you’re safe,” he repeated, tone sterner than before. Jamison’s laughter died down and blinked in shock, before a smile graced his lips. And a true one at that, one that reached his eyes and caused a pink-ish rosey color to risk to his cheeks.

“Alright then; let’s get packin’!”


End file.
